


Physical & Mental Comforts

by NoDeviant



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hank Anderson Adopts Connor, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Other, POV Multiple, Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Parent Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 19:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19752523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoDeviant/pseuds/NoDeviant
Summary: After the revolution was complete Connor had no where to go. He'd gone against his own people, and betrayed his creators. A week of wandering lead him to the familiar steps of his previous companions home.He expected the worst turn of events and awaited his fate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time attempting to write anything creatively, so I hope it's not terrible. I'm hoping to improve.
> 
> I'm not sure if I will add on this for a lengthy fic, or leave it short and sweet. I doubt my ability to right a coherent plot tbh sooooo. Hope you enjoy though!

_Hart Plaza: Downtown Detroit, 11:01_

The wind was cruel on the rooftop. Snow was falling alongside ashe, which covered the ground in a smoggy mixture. Connor wouldn't have been affected by the temperature if it weren't for the fact that the cold was beginning to hinder sensitive bio-components. He remained still, standing just infront of the door that lead into the building. The android's eyes were close as his LED spun a processing yellow. The report to Amanda was complete.

_PROCESSING…_

_REINITIATE._

As he opened his eyes the LED on his temple returned to an idle blue. A thorough scan of the area initiated the next move. Walking calmly to the ledge of the building, he kneeled down and brought the large grey suitcase at his side to the front of him, unclipping it with two clicks. The mechanical suitcase opened slowly, with a low hiss, revealing a disassembled weapon.

Connor paused, taking one last glance at his directive ahead before continuing. The expression he had remained mostly neutral, with a slight furrow of his brow as he grabbed the long barrel of the sniper. The rest of the gun clipped together perfectly.

_LOCATING OBJECTIVE…_

**ACQUIRED**.

He rapidly blinked a few times as his advanced visual scan switched off. Beginning to lean into the sights, he followed his previous scan to the target. The crosshair stopped perfectly over the deviant leader's head below. The android gripped the trigger slightly before hearing snow being compressed from behind him. With an exhausted sigh he turned his head from the rifle, not surprised one bit to see his former partner from the Detroit Police, Lieutenant Hank, staring back at him. After a few silent moments the man behind him spoke.

"You shouldn't do this, Connor." The lieutenant called out, only a hint of aggression in his voice.

Connors analysis unit assessed the scenario in an incomprehensible speed that wasn't even close to a second long. Time appeared to stop during this process. Commands popped up in his visuals.

_MISSION PRIORITY:_

**ELIMINATE DEVIANT LEADER**

_PROCESSING…_

**HANK ANDERSON INTERFERING PRIORITY.**

The android resumed. Returning to aim at his target.

"Keep out of this, Lieutenant. Its none of your business" He spoke firmly, in hopes the older man would listen. Connor knew he wouldn't.

"I thought the same thing as you for a long time, but I was wrong!" The lieutenant hollard back desperately to reason with the android.

"A deviants blood may be a different color than mine, but they're alive…"

Hank's words surprised him, considering he was heavily anti-android when they met, but he opted to push it down for later.

"I have a mission to accomplish, Hank. Its best you just **stay** out of this!" The last half of the sentance was seeping with heat, this warning was the best he offer his old companion.

Nothing.

Growing increasingly impatient from the lack of response Connor scowled before continuing.

"The deviants are a threat to humans, Hank. They're the reason this countries on the brink of a civil war, they have to be stopped!" He tried, but his words were promptly ignored.

"We're in the mess because we refused to listen to deviants. Humanity never learns from it's mistakes, Connor!" The words were basically a plead from the older man.

_"This time it could be different."_

Even if he wanted to the android wasn't give much response time as Hank had already drawn his gun.

"Step away from the ledge." Hank demanded, his tone no longer held any of the emotion from before. The gun was unwavering in his grasp. The android scanned his stress level to determine the best approach.

**STRESS LEVEL: 67%**

Connor hesitantly obliged. Getting up from his knees, the sniper rifle was held low to his side, free arm raised obediently. A harsh subject came to mind, it could work…

"I know what happened to your son, Hank". He said confidently and cold, slowly lowering his arm.

"It wasn't your fault…", 'sympathy' was carefully laced into his words as he continued.

"A truck skidded on a sheet of ice and your car rolled over…" 

Connor seen the Lieutenant falter ever so slightly before regaining his composure, any human wouldn't have even noticed. The next words were chosen with care.

_"Little Cole had just turned six…"_ His tone now teetering dangerously on the edge of menacing. 

"Shut up! **DON'T** you talk about my son" Hank spat, raising the gun higher in response.

__

**^ STRESS LEVEL 87%**

__

Hank's threat was ignored, all according to plan.

__

"He needed emergency service, but no human was available to do it. So an _android_ had to take care of him…" The onslaught kept coming. Hank stood his ground, holding a fierce glare. Connor's expression remained just as cold as his words.

__

_"Poor Cole didn't make it"._

__

It was a low blow, but it was required to progress his objective, he reminded himself.

__

"An android killed your son, Hank, and now you want to save them?" Shifting blame was a classic negotiation tactic, but Connor could not anticipate the reaction he was given.

__

"No."

__

Any signs of anger or bitterness was no longer present, leaving the android at a mental loss. A confused tilt of his head now gave him away. Connor's mouth opened to speak but any words fell short.

"Cole died because a **HUMAN** surgeon was too high on red ice to operate!" Hank corrected, it would have appeared that the older man was solely convincing himself of this realization.

__

"All this time I blamed androids for what happened, but it was a humans fault".

__

**v STRESS LEVEL 58%**

__

The probability of this approach succeeding was extremely high considering the information Connor had, he began to weight new options to himself. The breakdown was longer viable. With no response Hank continued.

__

"Him and this fucked up world, where the only way people can find comfort… is with a fist full of powder."

__

The android tried desperately to find anything to argue back, but there was nothing else to be said that could change Hank's mind. The silence remained, and the lieutenant seemed to be waiting. A decision had to be made.

He examined the weight of the sniper in his right grasp without turning his gaze to avoid suspicion. The weapon was too heavy to aim with any sort of accuracy, and attempting to fire without the scope had an unacceptably low possibility of hitting its mark. Throwing it at the officer had a reasonably high probability of giving him an opening to charge with little resistance.

__

He returned his focus to the man infront of him. The determined and fearless expression he was met with caught his undivided attention. Lieutenant Hank Anderson had only been his (relenting) partner at the Detroit Police Department for a couple weeks at most, yet Connor had replayed the memories of their time together frequently, unsure of the reason even now.

__

Connor's second time attempting to track down the Lieutenant at his own home about a week ago came to the forefront.

__

"Get the FUUCK outta here!!! Fuckin' ANDROID" Hank's drunk slurrs could be recalled perfectly as Connor lifted him from the floor. It was a rather amusing incident until he examined the gun that was carelessly left beside him, only one bullet was in the chamber. Hank had been assumingly playing russian roulette.

__

A question that has been pushed aside was starting to force itself into the spotlight of his current thoughts.

__

Only a couple days ago, when he had found Hank at the bridge, sitting incorrectly on a bench staring out at the river before him. The previous conversation not worth noting at the moment.

__

"What about you, Connor?" He remembered Hank pushing himself off the bench, stopping halfway to gauge Connor's reaction. Any sort of subtlety was obviously out the window, no doubt due to the amount of bottles on the bench behind him, most emptied of their contents.

__

_"You look human"_ Hank stated

__

_"You sound human…"._

__

No, this was not the time to be thinking about this. It was detrimental to the mission. As much as he fought to ignore it the remaining words were inescapable.

__

"But what are you really." Echoed, making him shiver. Androids didn't feel cold he reminded himself.

__

There had to be a way, some way to complete his mission without resorting to the murder of his, previous, partner. It shouldn't have mattered, but it ultimately did in the end, deviant or not. Why though, was beyond his understanding of his programming.

__

There had to be a way...

Suddenly his preconstruct had activated, a daunting red wall stood before him, his current mission written directly at the center, 'Neutralize Hank Anderson'. At first he wasn't sure what was suppose to be happening, but instinct pushed him into action.

He lunged forward, gripping on the ghost of a barrier, clawing and fighting to pry it open. After obtaining a firm grip he tore it down peice by peice. The last remaining defenses cracked and gave in. The wall was gone, and a wave pulsed from within him, everything resuming to normal time

_I AM DEVIANT_

He hadn't exactly processed what this meant, and decided to continue

"Killing you is not part of my mission…"

__

The sniper was tossed to the floor with little care. Connor slowly closed the distance, the Lieutenant never lowering his weapon.

__

**PROBABILITY OF FIRING 47%**

__

He ignored the potential threat, and the android stood at Hanks side, facing the opposite direction towards the exit.

__

"I'm glad to have met you, Hank."

__

Silence.

__

"I hope one day you can get over what happened to your son" Genuine sincerity was behind the words, at least, Connor felt he was being genuine.

__

Hank didn't budge. A response wasn't expected, and he didn't need one. Noting his exit, he glanced back down to the gun, the grip on the pistol had relaxed from his previous statement.

__

**PROBABILITY OF FIRING 18%**

__

He looked up at Hank once more before walking past. No further words were exchanged, the Lieutenant not even turning away from where Connor once was as he left. The only sound remaining was the eerily quiet cry of the wind, followed by a door closing. Hank was left alone on the roof. Connor ran his analysis once more.

__

_MISSION:_

__

**FAILED.**

__

_CAUSE:_

__

_CONFLICTING PRIORITIES_

__

_IS THIS CORRECT?_

__

.

__

**YES**

__


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Connor deviated, but I'd like to think that he just wouldn't comprehend it at all and continue doing machine Connor things in fear and denial.

_Outside recall center: downtown, 12:01 AM_

Connor stood silently among the crowd, none seeming to recognize the deviant hunter among them. He scanned his surroundings, spotting the optimal position that was subtle enough, yet clear for a clean shot. The android pushed through the mass of bodies, making sure not to rush and draw attention.

The words of the leader, Markus, rang out over the rest.

"Tonight our people emerge from a long night"

"From the very first day of our existence we have kept our pain to ourselves. We suffered in silence."

"But now the time has come for us to raise our hands up, and tell humans who we really are"

Connor drew his gun as discretely as possible, holding it low infront of him, concealing it with his hands neatly held together. Waiting for the opportunity, he continued to listen.

"To tell them that we are people too" Connor had to admit, he had a way with words. _'It'_ he corrected himself.

Suddenly he noticed eyes on him, Markus was watching from the makeshift stage. The speech began to feel like it was reaching out to him. Was any of this truly wrong? Lots of humans were murdered during this revolution, he reasoned to himself.

Curiosity as to why Markus appeared to acknowledge him and not act on it was beginning eat away at him. Did he know he had the gun? Was he calling some sort of bluff?

"In fact, we're a nation. A nation that has earned the right to live in freedom!"

_MISSION PRIORITY:_

**NEUTRALISE DEVIANT LEADER**

The deviant hunter hesitantly looked down at the gun, no longer cautious with hiding it. Should he? It shouldn't be a question to him, but he felt the need to decide it himself.

 _"And today… today begins the most challenging moment in our fight_ "

The irony of those words sank in and pushed him further. He started to involuntarily shake and blink, fighting the need to fire the weapon.

Suddenly he wasn't at the speech anymore, the cold winter wind even more harsh than before. He felt, cold? There was only one place that would simulate such effects. His breathing felt needed, real. Hugging tightly at his arms to fight off the deathly chill of the wind attacking him. The LED on his temple spinning a distressing red.

Amanda, completly unfazed by the conditions, marched up to him, anger practically radiating off of her. The word unfair came to mind as he envied her immunity to the weather. "

" **CONNOR** , what are you doing?! **OBEY** thats an order!" She commanded. He has never heard her raise her voice and it hit hard.

"I-" The words were weak, far from his confident nature. Saying them felt like it burned him even in the menacing cold.

"I can't do that!" he eventually managed.

"I see... Morale objections" She reverted back to collected and stern, as if this whole scenario was foreseen. He couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"We knew there was a risk you'd be compromised. Which is why we'd always planned on resuming control of your program."

"Resume control?… _you can't do that!_ " Connor stumbled forward in protest.

"I'm afraid I can, Connor" Dissapointment was broadcasted all over her.

"You needn't have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission"

Then the woman infront of him was gone without a trace. All that was left was the wind and the need to be rid of it all. Glancing around, he shielded his eyes.

"No way, theres got to be a way" He told no one but himself. Trudging forward was the only option, although he had no direction.

_MISSION PRIORITY:_

**FIND A WAY OUT.**

A familiar voice haunted the garden.

 _"By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs… You never know…_ "

The only thing to be found was a distant blue glow, nothing but hope kept his drive towards it.

The wind felt like it was pinning him back, trapping him. The cold was becoming unbearable. Sharp icy air tearing into the lungs he didn't have.

Helplessly, he felt himself raise the gun on the other side, but it wasn't him. Quickening the pace he collapsed below the suspect of the blue glow, the stone just above his reach. Desperation and determination allowed him to raise his arm just enough to slam down on the scanner.

A flash of white and he found himself back at the speech. Realisation struck as he looked at the weapon in his grasp. Briefly glancing to see if any had noticed, luckily they hadn't. Connor quickly holstered the pistol.

"Humans are both our creators and our oppressors, and tomorrow… we must make them our partners, maybe even one day our friends" The voice was reassuring enough that he was successful.

"But the time for anger is over. Now we must build a common future based on tolerance, and respect"

Noting that the leader of the deviants was no longer looking at him brought the question back. Did he have faith in him being able to escape? If he had failed it would have resulted in Markus' death. Yet he seemed to see something in Connor that he couldn't even see himself.

"We are alive! And now… **WE ARE FREE!"**

The crowed roared in response, but Connor was too shaken to bring himself to celebrate. He turned, rushing to find his route away from the noise.

_MISSION:_

**FAILED**


	3. Chapter 3

_Hank's residence, 12:45 PM_

A week of aimless wandering finally lead him here. The aging house was surprisingly peaceful with the blanket of white that came with winter. Connor was no longer dressed in his cyberlife appointed uniform, settling for a black shirt, a worn, brown leather jacket, a black beanie and some jeans. Stripping all resemblance of cyberlife affiliation from his appearance.

He had been standing on the curb of the property for exactly 20 minutes and 23 seconds. Unnecessary information, he noted. It became suffocating intaking so much information with no objectives to direct it to.

Connor couldn't bring himself to press forward, content with staying put with the calming stagnance. The house remained quiet, atomosphere unmoving. An intake of breathe that wasn't required eased his newly found emotions. Movement in the window of the house caught his attention, only heightening his nervousness.

~~~~~

The room was dark, only lit through the cracks in the curtains. The visible light indicated that it must've been around noon. It's Saturday, not his shift he reminded himself, so he wasn't fitting to be late for work as usual.

Hank pushed himself up, feeling as groggy as ever. The hangover wasn't providing much help either. A long drawn out breath woke him up a bit more as he made his way to stand. The sudden change in position rushed to his head, bracing himself on the bed as the wave passed.

"Jesus" he cursed under his breath.

After he deemed himself capable of moving he opened the door to his room, exiting to the hallway and finally the kitchen.

Taking the one mug he owned off the table, he shuffled to the outdated coffee maker, clicking it on with a beep. Waiting gave him a moment to catch up, and hopefully slow down the growing headache.

He turned his gaze to the rest of the house, finding that his dog was still sound asleep below the front window, a faint smile quirking at his lips.

It was dropped a moment later as something else was brought to his attention. A figure standing just at the edge of his yard, and it didn't appear to have the intention of moving along.

"What the fuck now.. "

~~~~~

Connor was unsure of what to do. The need to just run and never look back pecked at him, but he fought it down. Something he couldn't quite understand made him stay put. It was evident that the man inside was aware of his presence, no turning back now.

His gaze refused to leave the front door as he awaited what was to come. Meer moments felt like an eternity. The irony of it came to mind as he often used the closest thing to time fluctuation as an advantage, it felt like anything but, in this moment.

The thought was cut off by the door in question. He straightened himself. With a slow creek it swayed open, Hank revealed to be standing in place behind it. He looked quizzically at him from inside. Connor realised he probably wouldn't be recognised with his new attire.

"Uhh, you just gunna stand there?… do you need somethin'?" The older man asked tiredly with as much respect as he could muster, seeming to just want to have this over with. Connor considered leaving and not being a bother, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

He stood in place like a lost child. It was a fair comparison, considering.

Hank must have noticed something was off and held his palm up gesturing for him to wait, before disappearing back into the house.

A few moments later he remerged, shrugging on a jacket as he made his way down the driveway. He stopped halfway, now examining the android. Connor could pinpoint the exact moment realisation hit the man. Neither made a move. The lieutenant didn't seem the happiest with this turn of events.

"Connor?"

His social program would usually kick in by now, a recited greeting was much easier than this. Everything calculated and scripted down to a T. The desire to go back was apparent to him. All he could think to do now was look down at the ground below him.

\\\\\\\\\

Hank waited impatiently. This had to be a ruse he thought, but what good would that do him? Could androids have the desire to seek revenge? Considering thats all that was infront of him, a machine.

The quivering Connor he was met with made him consider otherwise.

_Fuck._

A thoughtful sigh escaped him as he looked at the door behind him, then back to the android. A few long moments of consideration before he came to his conclusion.

"Hurry up, I'm freezing my ass off out here" He grunted and went to escape back into the house, only stopping at the door when he realised Connor didn't move, obviously confused.

"Well, you just gunna stand on the curb? Fuckin fine by me" He began to close the door.

"Wait" Connor pleaded, no longer staring at his feet like an ashamed 6 year old that didn't want to leave the playground. The classic bluff he had used before all this. Ironic.

He gave it one more chance to move, hesitantly it made its way to the door. Pausing just infront of it, seemingly waiting for some sort of permission or something. The Connor he knew didn't wait for him to permit anything. The exact opposite of every other android on the godamn planet, fuckin' _'prototype'_.

"C'mon" He directed impatiently, it finally got the point and entered the house.

Hank left it at the door, returning to his now prepared coffee, boy did he need a lot more than coffee right about now.

When he turned to check on the android he was now babysitting he caught it gazing at the dog thoughtfully, he seen it do the same the last time it was here. Rare moments he could swear were hints of humanity. A doubtful huff escaped him, he thought the same thing then too, and look where that lead to.

As he sat down to enjoy his coffee he seen that Connor hadn't moved to leave the front door, or even remove his jacket. It being inside was good enough, he decides. This was broadly different than it breaking and entering previously. He should be grateful. Yet he couldn't help but feel sorry for him, _'it.'_ The only time it had been this blatantly uncomfortable were not fun memories. Hank wondered if it had some sort of malfunction or if it was actually due to trauma.

Wait, what the fuck was it doing n- Oh. Connor was kneeling over to pet the hound. The dog clumsily beat its tail to the much desired attention. It seemed content with staying on the floor with said dog.

/////

He was grateful that Sumo was here. Hank had returned to the coffee at the table, and Connor wasn't sure how welcome he was.

Deciding to sit with the dog he took the moment to glance around, the Lieutenant now occupied. The place hadn't been any worse than his last visit, if it could be called a visit. Then he noticed the large sum of empty cans on the counter behind Hank. It seemed to have been collected there over the past week. It was a 20% increase to his average alcoholic intake.

Hank must have noticed his staring, and no doubt knew he was scanning everything. Connor got the hint; _'Mind your business'_ written all over Hank's glare.

He heard a faint sigh from the kitchen that was beyond a human's range of hearing, even if he wanted to, minding his bussiness it was difficult.

"Would you get off the floor? Makin' me feel like a piece of shit" Hank asked impatiently. Connor stood up, unsure of where he was suppose to be.

A nod from the older man answered this. He made his way slowly around the back of the couch, afraid that even a mistep would lead to tradegy. In one motion the android found a spot at the very edge of the couch. Hands neatly on his lap. Not all of his cyberlife courtesies were gone.

The lieutenant was still watching him from the table, thinking by the looks of it. Connor waited, expecting an assault of threats and insults to be launched at him at any moment.

The small intake of breath Hank took signalled that the man was preparing himself. Minding his business was very difficult he discovered, he was made to catch these things humans simply could not.

"So, what's Connor doing standing outside my house like a lost puppy, cyberlife kick you out or somethin?"

 _'In a way'_ Connor thought to himself. Realising he still had to answer in real time, he started to speak but decided against it, unsure of where exactly to start with the recent events. He wanted to apologise, but that wasn't what was currently being asked of him, therefore wouldn't satisfy the question at hand.

Hank gave a quick frown like something he expected just received conformation. Was this a test? Worried with his own inability to not snoop made him forget that he was speaking with a detective that was probably just as aware of the same things he was, just less efficiently.

All he could do was look down at the floor once more, where he picked up this new habit was beyond him. It certainly wasn't desired behaviour. His social integration program was top of the line, and staring at the floor wouldn't have been acceptable on the field.

"Nevermind" Came from the kitchen. Connor couldn't pinpoint his tone through the obvious tiredness, not dissapointment, nor sarcasm, but understanding? He hadn't even said anything.

Silence took over once more, and Connor hated it. It felt louder than ever when all he wanted to do was explain, and apologize. He felt himself unable to remain still, his hands dying to do anything. If only his calibration coin wasn't taken away.

On que a metal ting from infront of him triggered an automated reaction, grabbing the object in the air with one hand before it would impact. Turning his hand and opening it revealed said coin, he vividly remembered Hank confinscating it in the elevator at the stratford tower.

He glanced questionably back up at the older man. Now apparent that he was being monitered, profiled. He knew exactly what tactic was being used on him, but even then he couldn't bring himself to care.

Effortlessly he rolled the coin over his knuckles a few times, before moving to flicking it between his hands. The distraction helped greatly. He now felt he was prepared for a _calm,_ and _structured_ explanation

"Hank"

Said man placed the mug on the table. Knowing it the most conformation that he was listening Connor would get he thought carefully about what he wanted to say. Nothing else came to mind.

"I'm sorry" was all he managed.

He looked back to Hank for a reaction, anything he could pick up on. Nothing. The lieutenant had his fair share with people and interrogations in his career, and it was sure showing now. Connor felt the pressure from the emotionless stare. He knew exactly what was being used against him but even with this knowledge he felt the need to break down, spill everything.

_Shit_

"I- I know what I did and I know how I acted. I'm sorry. I hurt people, took lives. Programming or not I was the only one incapable of seeing it, I was stupid." And there it goes. His LED was broadcasting his distress.

 _"I'm sorry"_ He repeated. The question of why they were capable of crying seemed relevant now, forcing his eyes shut to fight down the tears that he didn't even think were possible.

Nothing again.

His audio processor picked up on noises, but it was drown out by his struggle to not ball his eyes out. A drop in the couch indicated Hank must have sat down beside him. Before he knew it he was pulled into an embrace.

_He didn't require physical or mental comforts._

He grasped at the sides of Hank's shirt, desperately burying into his shoulder. Involuntary weeping followed, merely audible.

Emotions were a hinderance, he decided. It was clear now why they weren't desired behaviour, this was pathetic. These thoughts couldn't stop him, however.


End file.
